There is blood on my hands, see what I have become?
by KrazyKeke
Summary: A tragic back-story does not excuse a villain from committing hateful crimes. Before he was the Zerstörer, he was Aleksei Kuznetsov. Francis Dugan. Franz Lehnsherr. Names have power, they carry weight and define who you are. In this series of inter-related drabbles and ficlets, two men forced to become monsters eventually become human again and slowly fall in love.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Captain America, Harry Potter, Marvel's Agents of SHIELD, or any other Marvel character that you encounter in this story

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**Warnings**: There will be swearing, there will be dark disturbing and possibly, most likely triggering content, there will be spoilers for the new episode of AoS and the new Captain America movie, this is slash, meaning, there will be scenes of the homoerotic nature in some chapters. If any of this isn't to your liking, please turn around and go away. This is your only warning.

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**Prelude**

_Poland, 1944_

Pale hands belonging to a short boy with unusual viridian eyes were tightly gripping an older teen's, he was nervously glancing around, watching people digging in trenches, catching sight of the numbers on their wrists...He glanced up a little at the worn and tired older woman on the left hand side of the taller teen, and she caught him, offering him a wan smile as if to say, 'It's okay'.

The smile was familiar, comforting.

In his inattention, he hadn't noticed. Everything happened in a blur. The woman pushed in a different direction than the older teen and his hand was momentarily released as he tried to go to her aid, to bring her back to his...their side. It just escalated from there, the older teen could not be moved and when the soldiers gained up on him, trying to drag him away from the iron wrought gate the woman had been shut behind.

As the gate started to bend forward, toward the older boy who was yelling incoherently, the younger slipped past the soldiers, dodging their cruel and rough hands, all too willing to climb through the gap and be reunited with the woman. But he was caught around the middle before he could get too far and without thinking on it, he bit down as hard as he could on the offending appendage that dared to touch him; unbeknownst to him, his incisors had lengthened and sharpened just enough to sink through flesh, break through the bones of the assailant's hand and enter veins. He was blind, deaf and dumb to the fact that someone was trying to yank him free of the hand he was currently gnawing on like a stubborn dog with a bone, the veins were becoming prominent, the person's hand turning grey...

White light burst from the sudden darkness of his vision. His mouth unwittingly opened and the hand was released, the boy dropped like a stone onto the muddy earth.

"**_FRANZ_**!"

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And for now, that's it. Depending on the number of reviews I receive for this pilot chapter, I'll upload the second chapter later tonight or early tomorrow. I have high hopes for this, easily, it could be at least 15-20 chapters since I'll be going in-depth, really getting into the psyche of Harry's character, how the trauma of the concentration camps shaped him and the events thereafter of First Class, I'll be adding bits and pieces of the Captain America movie with the Howling Commandos...God, I'm just seriously, sincerely excited to do this.

Of course, I'm also excited to get back into my habit of writing full sex scenes (though you have to keep it a secret if I do this, shh, shh, mmkay?), which will empathize on the difference of The Winter Soldier/Harry sex to Bucky/Harry sex and before people go all, "They're the same person!", you have to acknowledge that it's a different mindset, kind of like roleplay...fuck, I'm going into embarrassing detail.

Review, review.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Captain America, Harry Potter, Marvel's Agents of SHIELD, or any other Marvel character you might encounter while reading this story

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**Chapter One**

"Understand this Erik, Franz. These Nazis...I'm nothing like them." The doctor didn't give Franz a good feeling even though he was smiling. There was just something about him that made him want to hide behind Erik or run away but right now, neither was an option. "Genes are the key, yes? But their goals...blonde hair, blue eyes, pathetic." As the man spoke, he unwrapped a package chocolate bar and Franz's eyes fastened on the sweet unintentionally, he licked dry, chapped lips.

The older man took a bite and then slid it across the table, towards Franz. "You can eat the chocolate, it's good." he encouraged. Franz looked at Erik for reassurance but the doctor cleared his throat and he turned his attention back to the man. "Go on. I said you can." Franz hesitated for only a few seconds more before darting forward and snatching the candy, he ate hungrily, nearly swallowing foil once or twice, unaware that Erik's expression tightened a bit or the satisfied, smug smile on the doctor's face. "I might have more for you later. It was good, yes?"

Franz nodded, wiping his mouth on his sleeves. "Yes, thank you..." For the moment, his stomach was full, which was more than he could say for others and he felt a tinge of guilt that he hadn't at the least saved a little bit for Erik, but the doctor did say he'd have more.

"We want to see our mama." Erik stated, sounding a little bit defiant. That guilt in Franz's tummy grew bigger. He hadn't saved any for their mother either, and she was already so thin...

Lost in his head as he was, he missed a big part of the conversation, though he did get bits and pieces about evolution and the doctor was talking about the strange thing Erik did to the gate, his heart plummeted at what happened next.

"Reverse what you did to this man's hand, move this little coin for me, Erik, Franz. Or at the count of three, I will pull the trigger."

Desperation filled him up and he hurried to the man who was nursing an ashy gray hand in a sling, a pinched expression on his face, while two other guards held their mother. "Give...give me it." He said in reference to the appendage and though it took a moment, that's what the man did. Franz wasn't paying attention to what Erik was doing, but he hoped he'd succeed, even as he tried to remember what had happened to get the man's hand like this in the first place.

Vaguely, he heard the count down and his mother's encouragement but – BANG.

It was too late.

On the office floor, was their mother. He never noticed how small she looked until now.

Franz turned his attention back to the soldier who was looking at him with widened eyes, clear fear visible in the depths. There was a ringing in his ears, perhaps the pounding of his own heart, and then everything became strange. He couldn't see. He couldn't see—normally. But there were colors and...

When those colors faded in minutes, seconds, hours, days, he didn't know, he didn't care, the man was just like Mama, a gray skinned, scratched up and bitten mess, horror frozen on his features forever. Blood was on Franz's hands, staining his clothes.

And yet he felt nothing but a yawning emptiness.

That was strangely comforting.

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Well. That's a wrap. I had to sucker punch y'all with some feels this chapter. Franz, or Harry, makes his first kill, though it wasn't exactly consciously, more his instincts taking over. And he will get stronger, more deadlier, he's still evolving, changing, though by no means is he able to take on Erik or god forbid, Charles, Logan. He can however take on most humans later on down the line.

Anyways, many of your questions are good and I swear they will be answered during the course of the story. But let's take the scenic route and enjoy the ride.

Review, review. Same deal as last time. Depending on the amount, I'll update again tonight or tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Captain America, Harry Potter, Marvel's Agents of SHIELD, or any Marvel character you might encounter throughout the story

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**Chapter Two**

You are a survivalist.

The words reverberate in his skull and they're practically saturated with pride. Pride from the man who hurts him – them – on a daily basis. It hurts him emotionally and maybe he imagines it, but perhaps even physically, the way his gut clenches and he stands a little straighter in Herr Doktor's presence. As if he wants to be praised for his accomplishments.

His accomplishments being how he breaks his people one by one with his claws and fangs. Sometimes just with books and heavy objects, they are so frail, the way blood spurts from their mouths, nose and eyes, they are so frail with how their skull cracks audibly after so many punches and kicks. He is blind, deaf and dumb to their screams of mercy, of pity, their prayers and their tears.

He is careful in the way that he never looks too closely at Erik's face. Franz knows that he will find disgust there, anger maybe. But as he goes to sleep at night, with a full belly of food, like sandwiches or bread, sometimes chocolate, he cannot dreg up much regret. Because he is alive and not dead like their mother and it is both okay and not okay.

He has survived. He will survive another day. Wake up and do it all over again. Dull monotony sets in as he realized he could not expect anything less.

Killing, digging, experiments. Rinse, wash, repeat.

Until one day it wasn't.

"-God. What in the h-" As Franz came to, he found that he was lost in murky darkness. A darkness he was becoming familiar with and so swallowing down his initial panic, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and released it. Unlike normally, where this was a cure all for his troubles with his sight, now he only saw muddled, human shaped blobs, wisps of color swirling around them. He didn't understand...

"Kid. Kid, can you understand us? You're being, you're...sit still. Don't move. I'm going to get you out. Okay?" The voice, male, was definitely American. Although curious about how they'd gotten in to Herr Doktor's office, he wasn't going to question anything too deeply lest they punish him; and so he only made an (what he hoped) affirmative noise in the back of his throat. "Alright then, Steve, I'm gonna need you to get those cuffs off of him, real nice and slow, careful, _careful_." There was a tightening, brief pain and a pained moan escaped his lips. "God, I'm sorry kid. It's almost over. It's almost over." A snapping sound was heard and he could move his wrists more freely.

"Dugan, don't celebrate just yet. That thing on his head, we gotta take it off." This time, there was another voice, distinctly not American, though he talked in English. Franz tensed for a completely different reason, he had a feeling he knew what they were about to do, what they were about to attempt and it scared him. "We gotta take it off, kid. We gotta. I'm sorry, I'm _so_ sorry."

He let out a bloodcurdling scream for an entirely different reason as it seemed like someone was digging a rusted nail in his skull and tugging at the same time. He was always put under when the torture device was removed. But now he was awake for everything...

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And that's it. Sorry this was delayed, I'm recovering from the flu and Error Type 2 kept popping up. Already started ch.3 so just review, please.


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